Starting A New Game At Level One
by sitabethel
Summary: [The first section takes place after the Memory World RPG. The second second section takes place after the Ceremonial Duel.] Ryou looked at him, "I've been thinking . . ." No reply, so Ryou continued, "we'll have to play a game of our own, won't we?"


_"Quests may not simply be abandoned; prophecies may not be left to rot like unpicked fruit; unicorns may go unrescued for a long time, but not forever." ~Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn_

_ "This isn't the story of a great pharaoh. __**Everyone**__ has a story of their own . . . and that story ends in light." ~__Takahashi Kazuki's Yugioh._

* * *

Before Ryou opened his dark-colored eyes, his fingers brushed across his collar bone, the absence of the Ring's weight left a strange feeling on his chest. Ryou sighed, he'd anticipated Yugi taking it again, but felt frustrated nonetheless. His eyes blinked open and Ryou realized that he was in his room instead of the museum, laying on his bed.

The spirit looked down at him, scowling, sunlight filtering through his translucent form. "Why am I here?"

Ryou's eyes focused on the spirit, "the moment before we passed out, I used the Ring to transfer your soul out of the relic and attached it directly to me."

The spirit leaned closer, "I did not ask what you did, I asked why."

"Because you lost," Ryou swallowed, "and I couldn't stand it, the thought of you trapped in the Ring. No one deserves that. Not even you."

The spirit pushed away and paced along the room. "I never asked for your help."

"No," Ryou agreed, "you wouldn't ever _ask_ for my help."

The spirit answered Ryou's question with another of his own. "Do you even have a plan?"

Ryou shook his head, "I wasn't really thinking when I did it, it was just . . . an instinct?" He looked up and watched the spirit pace. "But you understand that, don't you? Isn't that how you felt? During the Battle City Finals when you shielded me?"

The spirit ceased pacing and stared at Ryou. They both stayed still, looking at each other in silence. The spirit turned away first, slamming both fists against Ryou's desk. "Why didn't my plan _work_! Damn the Pharaoh's meddlesome vessel."

Ryou tried to stand, head swaying and body feverish. He was dehydrated. The spirit, so consumed by his revenge, often forgot something as basic as drinking a glass of water. Ryou stumbled to the bathroom connected to his bedroom and drank from the facet, cupping his hands together to carry the liquid from the sink to his mouth. Afterward, he leaned against the door-frame, watching the spirit pace.

"I need to get the Ring back," the spirit muttered.

Ryou shook his head, "Yugi isn't going to let me near the Millennium Items, _especially_ the Ring."

The spirit stopped pacing and glared at Ryou, "I'll think of something."

Another silence, this time Ryou broke it, "you can't do it without the Ring, can you?"

"Do what?" the spirit sneered.

"Take control."

When the spirit didn't answer, Ryou's lips stretched across his face in a bitter smile. He straightened, standing in the doorway, "you're just a ghost now."

The spirit slammed Ryou backwards, the sink stopped their momentum, its edge digging into Ryou's lower back. The translucent hands gripped Ryou's shirt collar and he shook Ryou hard enough to make the boy's head bump against the mirror behind the sink. "Don't underestimate me."

Ryou held the back of his head, "I'm sorry. Let go."

The spirit growled and stormed out of the bathroom.

Ryou walked back to his bed and sat on the mattress, contemplating the spirit, "you look ethereal, but you feel solid."

The spirit glared at Ryou, arms crossed over his chest, but didn't say anything.

Ryou continued, "I wonder if the others will see you. That could be bad."

The spirit snorted, "idiots didn't notice me when they brought you here."

Ryou exhaled in relief, "good, I don't want to explain this to them."

Bakura clucked his tongue at his host, "keeping secrets from you friends?"

Ryou looked up at the spirit, his expression rueful, "only as many as they keep from me."

* * *

Over a month later, Ryou returned to his apartment, setting three suitcases down near the door. The spirit hadn't spoken since the Ceremonial Duel. Ryou looked at him, "I've been thinking . . ."

No reply, so Ryou continued, "we'll have to play a game of our own, won't we?"

"What?" the spirit finally spoke, marching towards Ryou with his face twisting in anger.

Ryou stepped backwards as the spirit stepped forward, "what I mean is—"

The spirit slammed Ryou against the wall, growling an inch from his face, "you think you can banish me? Let's get some things straight, first, we're _not_ them, second, you _can't_ beat me at Duel Monsters, and third, I'll _never lay down my sword_."

Ryou laughed, loud. The spirit released him and blinked, confused. Ryou leaned forward and held the spirit's face in his hands, caressing his cheeks, "I'm not stupid." He let go and stepped into the center of the living room. "I know we're not them, and I'm glad we're not them," he shrugged, watching the spirit. "And Duel Monsters is _their_ game, I want to play _our_ game, together, not against each other."

"What are you rambling about?" the spirit narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

Ryou gestured to the table in the corner of the living room, each inch covered with Monster World scenery. "I made the Egyptian diorama for you, and you said we'd play our own RPG in exchange."

The spirit smirked, "when do I ever tell you the truth?"

Ryou looked empathetic, "the Millennium Items are gone. Zork is gone. The Pharaoh is gone. What are you going to do now? We might as well play while you think about that."

The spirit's smirk dropped into the same thoughtful frown he'd worn since the Ceremonial Duel.

"And I have this," Ryou walked over to the coat closet in his living room and opened the door. He found the long, black coat the spirit wore during his last battle against the Pharaoh, reached into one of the pockets, and pulled out a small figurine. "See?" Ryou smiled, holding the miniature, red-cloaked thief in his palm. "I took him while you and the Pharaoh were busy fighting."

"You've gotten quite good at stealing," the spirit mumbled.

Ryou grinned and set the miniature on the Monster World Table. He went over to a display case that housed similar figurines of all his friends, lifting up the glass and taking a white-robbed wizard out of the scene. He placed the little white-dressed doll next to the red-dressed one and examined them, smiling. "I think they could become friends."

"No," the spirit growled, almost yelled. "That will never happen. Go play a game with the stupid friends you already have."

Ryou ignored the spirit and sat in a chair beside the table, hugging his left knee against his chest. "During that one time, my character died so I'll have to re-roll a new one and start at level one. That's fine with me, I like level grinding, it's one of my favorite parts of the game. It's slow, almost tedious, but there's an odd satisfaction in the work."

The spirit stomped over to the table, leaning down so his eyes were level with Ryou's, "are you listening? I'm not playing."

Ryou raised his eyes to match the spirit's gaze, "then I'll play by myself. You can stay at level one forever if you want, but I'm going to regain my lost levels."

"Level one, hah," the spirit dropped into the empty chair beside Ryou, tapping his chest in a boastful gesture, "I was in epic levels. Didn't you see? I stole the old Pharaoh's corpse out of his tomb then broke into the castle dressed in sacred gold. Is that the work of a level one thief?"

Ryou raised an eyebrow, "but you died. You have to roll a new character."

"I'm not playing," the spirit snorted.

Ryou took out his gaming lap top and opened a new file. He typed some details about his character, glancing up at the spirit. "I already have the campaign written, you know." He started picking traits and rolling for stats. "If you wanted to be a completely new character, I could paint a different figurine," Ryou offered, "personally, I like the one you already have."

"I'm not playing," the spirit barked.

"You will," Ryou insisted, "when have you ever turned down a game?" Ryou cradled the dice in his hand. He reached towards the spirit and held them out, the scar on his palm gleamed pale-white on top of Ryou's ivory skin.

The spirit touched the scar, musing, he lifted his eyes up and looked at Ryou who held his gaze with gentle, dark eyes. The spirit's fingers curled around the two dice and he stole them out of Ryou's hand.


End file.
